


Let Me Go (I Don’t Want To Be Alone Again)

by FirstOrderGeneral14 (Cara_2886)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt Tony Stark, Loneliness, Past Relationship(s), Sad Ending, Sokovia Accords, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs Sleep, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:54:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28887942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cara_2886/pseuds/FirstOrderGeneral14
Summary: He wanted to scream into his pillow. But he didn’t. Nobody could know how weak he was.Stark men are made of iron.And iron rusts
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28





	Let Me Go (I Don’t Want To Be Alone Again)

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s a angsty one shot because I live for angsty Tony. This has a sad ending, just an FYI.
> 
> Also:  
> This is based off the song, “Let Me Go”, by NF.
> 
> EDIT: I have just updated this so that most typos and other errors are gone!

Everybody has a dark side,  
I feel embarrassed when they see mine.

...

Tony was not having a good day.

In fact, now that he thought of it, he wasn’t having a good week.

But Stark men are made of iron, so it didn’t matter.

Besides, Pepper had said this press conference was important, so here he was, putting on a fake smile and praying the press couldn’t see the dark circles under his eyes. He hasn’t been sleeping. Not since New York, and especially not since Ultron. But it wasn’t like before.

Before, when he lost sleep, it was for a lack of trying. He used to get so caught up in his work that he just forgot that oh yeah, he’s a human being, which meant, for better or for worse, he had to take care of himself to continue functioning. Stupid biology.

But now, he was trying. He really was. He was trying to be a better person, not just with eliminating SI’s production of weapons of mass destruction, but also by taking care of himself. Granted, it wasn’t because he cared whether he was tired or not, because he definitely didn’t. Not usually. But he was trying for Pepper. Because he couldn’t stand to see the look of disappointment on her face whenever he finally woke up after a 72 hour work binge. Not again.

But now, even when he was actually trying to sleep, he couldn’t.

It took hours to get his every-busy mind to shut up enough to fall asleep, as it was always plagued with improvements for his armor or a new product for SI or how to defeat the *literal alien army* he had seen through the wormhole or-

And there was his problem.

Whenever he thought about practically anything, his brain, the masterpiece it was, always somehow managed to connect it to the wormhole. His brain used to be his greatest asset. His advantage nobody could take. The one thing that made him special. That made him different from the civilians whose lives he’d saved.

But now, it was his greatest enemy.

And that was all the effort he had to go to just to get his eyes to close. Staying asleep was another war in itself.

Stark men are made of iron.

His sleep used to be peaceful, but now it was fraught with nightmares.

Tony hated it.

Nightmares were for children. For five year olds who were scared of the monster under their bed, or the ghost in their closet. Nights with nightmares were meant to be spent with parents and words of comfort that said no, nothing is going to hurt you, I will protect you.

And maybe that was his problem.

He was a grown-ass man, he didn’t need comforting, nor did he deserve it. Nightmares were a sign of fear. And fear was a sign of weakness. And Tony couldn’t afford to be weak.

Stark men are made of iron.

Tony didn’t miss the irony in that statement.

Besides, not only was he a man who could take care of himself, thank you very much, but his parents were dead. Had been dead, for over 25 years now. And he couldn’t bother Pepper with childish things like nightmares.

They weren’t that big of a deal, anyway.

But, unfortunately, they did keep him from sleeping, which, unfortunately, had visible effects.

The last time Rhodey had seen him, he’d asked if he needed to talk to someone about his nightmares.

Tony couldn’t believe he’d let himself be that weak. If he were weak enough for Rhodey to notice the way he never seemed to sleep, then he needed to be better. To be stronger.

Stark men are made of iron.

“Mr. Stark? Excuse me?”

Tony blinked himself out of his daze, trying to focus with all the cameras flashing and people talking and the *noise* and *lights* and it was *so much* and it was *too much* and oh god-

“What’s up?” Tony nonchalantly asked the reporter, putting on what he called his ‘press persona’, a mixture of controlled, intelligent, and unbothered.

“Can you comment on the enhanced individuals known as ‘Inhumans’, and the threat they pose to our society?”

Tony was bothered by this question. He didn’t know much about Inhumans, he didn’t know he needed to. He thought this press conference was supposed to be about the Ultron incident and the upcoming ratification and signing of the Sokovia Accords.

He didn’t like not knowing things.

He was glad he’d worn his glasses.

(Granted, they weren’t his sunglasses, Pepper wouldn’t allow that at a press conference. She said it made him look hungover, which he wasn’t. He just liked being able scope out the room without everyone knowing. Which, is that so unreasonable for someone who probably had PTSD? Not that he’d ever admit it...)

He discreetly whispered, “FRI, pull up every reliable piece of intel we have on Inhumans.”

“Right away, sir. Would you like me to access SHIELD’s files as well? They seem to have the most information.”

“Yes, and do it fast!”

He addressed the audience.

“Inhumans, you say? A threat? Hmm. Let me consider that.”

Tony quickly read through the files, praying no one could see how fast his eyes were moving.

“Well, I don’t really think there’s anything to comment on.”

A murmur broke out among the group of journalists, intrigued by his stance.

“I’m not going to lie, I was told this conference was for information regarding the recent incident at Sokovia, so forgive me for being confused by the question.

Now, I’m going to go a little off script here, so don’t blame anyone but myself for what’s about to come out of my mouth .”

The crowd silenced in anticipation. The last time he’d gone ‘off script’ he’d revealed himself to be a literal superhero.

“If you ask me, Inhumans do not present much of a threat. Do they have the potential to be dangerous? Oh yeah. But so does Captain America. So do I. Hell, even a kid has the potential to be dangerous! Does that mean we lock children up? No. Just because they have the potential to be something, doesn’t mean they will become it.”

As he read through the SHIELD file, he noticed a few things that he planned on looking back at later. (Agent is alive? And the Director of SHIELD? What the fuck??)

“Inhumans, in reality, are almost exactly the same as us. The only reason they’re different is because, hundreds of years ago, their ancestors were experimented on by an alien race called the Kree. I know that sounds insane, but so was the Chitauri invasion. So was Ultron. So was the fact that Hydra had somehow infiltrated SHIELD. But that’s the world we live in.

Besides, anyone can be an Inhuman. You could be one. Your significant other could be one. Your best friend could be one. You know, I could be one! Steve Rogers could be one! And we’d only know if they were exposed to the terragen crystal, which causes the Inhuman gene to awaken, which puts the Inhuman through terragenesis, a metamorphosis of sorts.

That’s the truth. Inhumans aren’t necessarily dangerous. Do they have the potential? Yes. But if we treat them just like we would any other person, we can all stay safe.

Alright!” Tony clapped his hands together. “Next question!”

The room erupted.

Everyone was shouting, clamoring to be heard, to ask the next question. Normally, Tony would’ve been able to handle it, but he’d mentioned the Chitauri in his little rant, and was still a little on edge from having to come up with the answer on the spot.

He was panicking.

He could feel his heart rate elevating, his blood pumping loudly through his skull. It was all too much, too much, too much-

“Mr. Stark, are you suggesting that you are an Inhuman?”

“Is there any cure for this alien disease?”

“How can they be stopped if they join forces?”

“Mr. Stark, you appear to be tired and stressed. Is this a result of underlying PTSD? If so, from what? You’re a billionaire, how come you have such a condition?” (Tony wasn’t even sure someone had said that. At this point his thoughts were so loud it was hard to tell the difference).

“Is it just me, or does he look not okay?”

“Do you see those eye bags?”

To that last comment, Tony responded, “Yes, they’re eye bags, but they’re designer. So fuck off.”

And then Pepper promptly got him off the stage, whispering a concerned, “Which one were you talking to there, babe?”

As he was ushered away, Tony could vaguely hear her saying, “Thank you all for coming, we will be taking no further questions at this time.”

Happy was escorting him out of the building, to the car. But Tony knew that even in the car, he’d still be able to see and hear them all, and right now he really just needed to get away.

So he didn’t get in when Happy opened his door for him.

He simply raised his hand, and called for his suit.

It was there in 46 seconds.

He quickly got in and flew off, ignoring Happy’s shouts of protests. He’d see him back at the Tower, which was being sold back to SI, as the Avengers were moving to the new Compound instead. But it didn’t matter. Either way, Tony still had a floor there reserved for him.

He flew to the landing deck, immediately getting out of the armor, and he rushed to his bed, not trusting his legs to keep him upright. He was really starting to feel the effects of his sleep deprivation.

He collapsed a few feet away from his bed.

Damn. He was close this time.

He passed out as his head hit the floor.

...

Rain falling from my dark skies.  
Clouds parting but it’s all lies.

...

Tony Stark was smiling.

A real, genuine smile.

He’d done it. The Sokovia Accords were now in almost perfect condition.

He had taken a look at the first draft, and had immediately known that Rogers, among others, would never agree to sign them.

But this new version he’d created?

Well, it was almost too good to be true.

He saved them to a flash drive and spent the rest of the night at the Tower, having a glass of scotch (he had told FRIDAY not to let him have any more than that. One glass of scotch wouldn’t hurt). Albeit, he was celebrating alone, but that was okay.

After Ultron, Pepper had demanded that he chose between Iron Man and her. And while he couldn’t just give up Iron Man (the world needed him, couldn’t she see that?), he also couldn’t live without her.

So, he had dedicated himself towards making the Sokovia Accords the best they could be. The committee formed by the U.N. to create the Accords had allowed him one chance to make a better version. He couldn’t fail.

And he was pretty sure he had knocked it out of the park.

There was no way Steve (or anyone. It’s not like he was looking for the Captain’s approval or anything. Not anymore.) could argue with them.

They allowed the Avengers to remain semi-independent, while still giving the U.N. control over certain aspects. For example, there would be a four person committee (half chosen by the U.N., half by the Avengers) that could deem certain missions necessary or not.

And if there wasn’t time to call for a vote, the committee could decide that if it was an approved mission, or not. And if not, the Avengers would be punished accordingly.

It was the perfect blend of freedom and accountability.

He woke up the next morning, did a quick check for any errors (turns out, a tired Tony is a typo-prone Tony), which took a considerable amount of time, since the Accords were over 96 pages long.

And he sent them off to the ratification committee.

He called Pepper.

“Tony?”

“Hey honey. So. I have some news.”

“What did you blow up this time?”

“What? I didn’t blow up anything! That’s unfair, I haven’t made anything explode in two entire weeks. Only a week before I break my record. But that’s not it.”

“... are you going to tell me or are we just going to stay silent.”

“I finished my version of the Sokovia Accords.”

“Tony! That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you! Have you heard back from the ratification committee yet?”

“Not yet, I just sent it earlier today. I should know in two days at the latest.”

“That’s awesome, honey. I’ll be back tonight to celebrate, okay? And I’ll bring you your favorite dinner.”

“Cheeseburgers?”

“Of course. We could have it no other way.”

“I love you so much.”

“Love you too, babe. See you tonight.”

“See ya.”

Tony hung up and did a little dance around the kitchen. Things with Pepper had been... tense, lately, with the Accords and all being so uncertain. He was sure that once these were ratified, he and her could take the next step in their relationship. He’d made Happy carry that ring around since 2008. It was about damn time he finally gave it to her.

Tony took a deep breath in relief.

*Everything is working out.*

Life is *good*.

Tony couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to say that.

Then, just as he was about to head down to the living room to wind down with some TV, Steve entered the kitchen. Tony was still smiling, unable to try and act like he hadn’t just made his entire life better.

“What are you smiling about?” The curious super soldier asked, giving Tony a strange look.

“What? Can’t a guy just smile because he feels like it?”

“Tony, you literally don’t smile unless you’ve just made a joke or said something sarcastic. And you’re just sitting here alone, so...”

“Fine. Although I think you’ll find this pretty sweet, too.”

Tony held out his StarkPad for Steve to see.

“What am I looking at here?” The man asked, confusion etched in his brow.

“Who’s the ratification committee?”

Tony’s face paled.

“What?”

“There’s an email from the-“

Tony cut Steve off, taking back the StarkPad, eyes frantic.

“How?? That thing is 96 pages long!! There’s no way they already read it all *and* discussed it!”

But it was there. An email, the first bit of which was just typical bureaucratic prose, all pointless. Tony scrolled until he saw it. The words that would determine not only the future of the Avengers, but also his friendships, business, and even his relationship.

*We regret to inform you that the United Nations has voted not to ratify the Sokovia Accords as written by Mr Anthony Stark.*

No.

No, no, no no no no no NO NO.

This cannot be happening.

Tony felt faint.

“Stark? Hey, you with me?”

“Yeah, yeah, um, I’m fine.”

Tony was struggling. But he had to keep it together. He couldn’t have a breakdown in front of Captain America himself.

*Stark men are made of iron*, his father seemed to whisper.

“Shut up! I swear, just SHUT UP!!” Tony yelled out, covering his ears with his hands. He felt like he could hear every little insult or slight his father had ever thrown his way.

He couldn’t do it.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, Stark. You’re good, it’s okay.”

Oh.

Well.

Fuck.

Steve was currently rubbing circles in Tony’s back, which normally would’ve been quite soothing. But not now. Because it meant that Captain fucking America himself was seeing him have a meltdown like a four-year-old.

Stark men are made of iron.

“I said I’m fine, Rogers!” Tony nearly yelled, standing up abruptly and knocking his stool over.

“Hey, it’s okay-“

“You don’t get to say that.”

“Tony, I want to help, but I can’t do that if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Damnit Rogers, how many times do I have to tell you? I’m fine!”

And with that, Tony quickly turned on the now annoyed Steve Rogers and bolted to the lab.

He locked himself in there for three days.

Pepper came knocking. He knew that by now she’d probably figured out what had happened from Steve, and had put the pieces together.

He ignored her.

He didn’t sleep.

How could he? His sleep would be haunted by nightmares, memories he was not equipped to handle in his current state.

He didn’t eat.

Everything he tried to force down came back up. At this point, it was useless.

All he drank was black coffee.

He’s fairly certain that if he’d had one more cup, he might’ve overdosed on caffeine.

Which wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world.

Stark men are made of iron.

...

Finally, on the morning of the fourth day, FRIDAY put protocol TSPS (Tony Stark Protection Squad, named by Rhodey, who had refused to change it) into place, and unlocked the doors.

Pepper was greeted by a barely coherent Tony, surrounded by broken glasses he had smashed into the walls.

She asked FRIDAY how much he’d had to drink.

FRIDAY said he hadn’t had a single drop of alcohol.

After she had cleaned him up, Pepper cried. She knew what this meant for the Accords.  
Knew what it meant for them.

She made a choice in that moment that she couldn’t come home to another broken mess. Not again. She couldn’t handle the stress of not only wondering if Tony was going to die on a mission, but if he’d kill himself, accidentally or not, when he was left with his thoughts for too long. She just couldn’t take it.

She moved out two weeks later.

...

And then came the Civil War.

Naturally.

Because Tony clearly wasn’t dealing with enough as it was.

No, he needed to pay for his crimes, atone for his sins. He had barely begun to scratch the surface on the path to redemption.

Stark men are made of iron.

As he sat there in Siberia, slowly freezing to death, he found it almost poetic.

His father had engrained that saying into him as a child, and what did he do as an adult?

He became a superhero called Iron Man that flew around in a metal suit.

A suit that had saved his life back in Afghanistan.

Funny, that the suit would be the thing that killed him.

The metal was quickly getting colder and colder, and Tony knew that he had maybe an hour left, if he was lucky.

Nobody knew he was here. There would be no great rescue. Not this time.

*Damn. I was really hoping to pull off one last surprise.*

In that moment, Tony Stark accepted death.

He didn’t want to die. But he had made peace with it. There was no avoiding it, not anymore.

Tony sighed and let his head fall against the ground.

*At least I’ll get to see Yinsen. *

*And for as many mistakes as I made, I don’t think I wasted my life.*

*I messed up, but I think I did my best. And for once, that has to be enough. Because I can’t give any more.*

*I’m out of time.*

Tony Stark closed his eyes.

And then, nothing.

...

When Tony opened his eyes again, he was more confused than anything.

*Didn’t I die? *

*This shouldn’t be possible.*

*Where the hell am I?*

“Good morning, Mr Stark.”

Tony flinched at the unexpected voice. When he saw Helen Cho standing in the doorway of what appeared to be his hospital room, it all started to make sense.

Tony sighed. He’d been doing that a lot more recently.

“I already know why I’m here, so let’s cut to the chase: how long do I need to be here for?”

Dr. Cho smiled, but Tony saw that it wasn’t sincere. The young doctor had never liked him much.

“About a week.”

Tony groaned.

“Is there anything else you’d like to know, Mr. Stark?”

Tony considered. He really didn’t want to know how badly he’d been hurt until he actually had to take care of himself again.

“Yes, actually.”

He hesitated.

“Has anyone come by?”

“Ah, you mean visitors? I’m afraid not. I can contact Miss Potts if you’d like, or Colonel Rhodes? I hear he’s recovering from his surgery as we speak.”

“N-No,” Tony managed, ashamed at the crack in his voice. “No need to involve Miss Potts.”

“Okay then. I’ll let you rest.”

When she left, Tony just stared at the wall.

No one had come to visit.

He knew he shouldn’t be surprised.

But he hadn’t thought this would happen. Not again.

Pepper had promised.

So had Rhodey.

But they were gone.

And despite their promises, Tony Stark was completely alone. Again.

Just like he always would be.

He wanted to scream into his pillow. But he didn’t. Nobody could know how weak he was.

Stark men are made of iron.

And iron rusts.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! Be sure to leave a comment or kudos! They absolutely make my day. You guys are the best. :)


End file.
